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Spaghetti

2

The waiter was dragged into the kitchen and pulled over to the counter. “I have customers, Benito,” he said in sympathetic Italian.

Benito looked around. He licked his lips and pointed toward the doorway. In the same vernacular, he whispered, “How dare she…”

The waiter sighed. “I know, I know.”

“That old putanna has been coming to this restaurant every day for the last year, and all she does is complain. Complain, complain, complain!”

“She’s always by herself…”

“Too much cheese, not enough basil, too much basil, not enough cheese, slow service, now stomach aches. I cannot even imagine how many customers she has scared away with her stupid accusations!”

“So what can we do, Benito?” The waiter threw his hands up in futility. “She’s loyal and she pays for her food.”

Benito slapped the waiter’s left hand out of the air. “She’s a psychopath! She’s filed three lawsuits against this restaurant!”

“And none of them made it to court!”

“Not the point, Antonio. You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Of course I do, signore.”

“She has embarrassed me in front of every patron we’ve had. She won’t rest until she has my head on a platter!”

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it, Benito–”

“That is where you are wrong, my friend.” Benito reached down into his pocket belt and extracted a small vial of clear liquid. “This,” – he shook it – “is the answer to all of our problems.”

Antonio bent down and peered in. “What is it?”

“Poison.”

A beat. “What?”

“It leaves no trace. I don’t know how it works, but my friend has promised me it will get the job done.” He returned the vial to his pocket, stone-faced.

Antonio squinted. “So we’re just going to kill her?”

“Keep your voice down!” He looked around. “And yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. She’s old, alone, and all she does is complain and make people unhappy. We’ll be doing the world a favor.”

“And you want to kill her in the middle of the restaurant?”

“Of course not! The poison acts slowly if the proper dose is given. Five drops and she’ll die in the middle of the night. Nobody will know.” He clenched his fist. “Just think, Antonio, we’ll never have to see her again!”

The waiter scratched his head. “This is wrong, Benito.”

Benito clasped his hands and smacked them against his face. “Listen to me, you idiot! She is a lonely woman! A sad, lonely old woman, who has nothing better to do than piss on my reputation! We’re putting her out of her misery.”

“We’re putting you out of your misery.”

“That as well.”

A long pause. “Well, let’s say we do this. How can you be sure that your friend was right about the way the poison works?” Antonio asked.

“My friend is very reliable,” Benito responded. “I trust him. So should you.”